


UNHØLY

by QueenSlayerLynch



Category: WWE
Genre: Becky’s a simple take no shit farm girl, Charlotte’s young and naive and vulnerable, Charlynch - Freeform, Cult AU, F/F, WWE - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 23:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSlayerLynch/pseuds/QueenSlayerLynch
Summary: unholy:- sinful; wickedI was sent to warn you, the Devil’s in the next room.You were unholy right from the start.Often the most holiest or those who claim to be are the most wicked. People lost seek out these holy figures for guidance. They’re susceptible, vulnerable, and willing. The holy ones take advantage of lost and mold them, shape them into something that they’ve convinced the lost they’re meant to be. The lost are none the wiser. After all, they sought out for these holy beings and surely they wouldn’t lead the lost astray, right? Of course not!





	1. PRØLØGUE

**Author's Note:**

> [Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLR8StFUi_nttHKx37O8FtGgi9KoLF68N4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome!! This is the first WWE fanfic I’ve wrote in YEARS. Originally, this was going to be for another fandom, but unfortunately it never saw the light of day due to me losing interest in writing for that fandom and losing motivation. This was an idea I’ve had floating around in my head for a year and a half maybe. It’s still something I wanted to see made, so I’m going to try my fucking damnedest to bring it to life.
> 
> A couple things before you read:  
> \- for the sake of this story and not to paint her parents in bad light, Charlotte’s IRL parents are not the parents mentioned here. They will be OC’s if I feel I need to give more backstory or insert them more.  
> \- I will try to mention triggers at the beginning of each chapter if there are any.  
> \- this will probably be a slow updating fic, if I don’t completely abandon it all together. As I said, it’s been years since i wrote anything wwe related, and it’s been a few months since I’ve wrote any kind of fanfic. Please be patient with me!  
> \- a playlist will be posted along with this story! In This Moment’s album Ritual is what inspired this story idea, so i’d Like to share it and some other songs that helped shaped the story!  
> \- I will try my best to write in. Becky’s accent, but i make no promises i’ll Be consistane with it. 
> 
>  
> 
> *possible trigger for some:
> 
>  
> 
> \- mention of abusive home

     "Hey hon?" 

     Charlotte ignored the gentle tone of the waitress' voice. She was more interested in watching the small town outside go to sleep for the night. Everything here seemed so... Peaceful. It was a much welcomed change than the life she'd grown "accustomed" to. The waitress had been kind enough as well. She gave her a booth far in the back of the diner without needing to order anything-- after all, she was just fourteen. Where would she even get money? She did bring her a glass or two of water, on the house. 

     "It's gettin' pretty late. Shouldn't you be headin' home? Your folks are probably gettin' worried." 

     Home. What home? She had no home. She had no parents-- as far as she was concerned anyway. Charlotte had a mom and dad, sure, but they didn't deserve such titles. They didn't give a rats ass about Charlotte. She wouldn't be missed if she'd disappeared-- which is how she found herself here, in a diner miles from home, with nothing but the clothes on her back and her bike. Maybe her running away would finally get them to care— but she doubted it. 

     Charlotte glanced the waitress’ way as she took a seat across from her. A frown settled on her face when she noticed Charlotte's red and puffy eyes. 

     "Is everythin' all right, hon?" 

     It was nice to have someone worried about her well being, even if it was a complete stranger, Charlotte decided. The thoughts and feeling in her chest pushed a new wave of tears to sting her eyes, though this round wasn't quite for the same reason. All Charlotte managed in response was a weak shake of her head. 

     "You wanna talk about it?" 

     Charlotte shook her head again. The waitress sighed and slid out of the booth. 

     "Well okay. You want somethin' to eat then? I know after I'm done cryin', I'm usually starved." 

     Charlotte nodded. She smiled. 

     "All right. I'll come back with some chicken tenders and some fries." 

     "Thank you," Charlotte replied meekly. 

     "Not a problem hon." The waitress said with a smile, "Holler for Mickie if you need anythin' else." 

     Charlotte’s stomach growled loudly. She hoped the food wouldn't take too long. 

* * *

 

     The food took maybe roughly fifteen minutes to cook, and took Charlotte no time at all to scarf it down. Mickie even brought her a milkshake. Charlotte decided she liked Mickie. She was really nice and pretty and made her feel safe, something she truly appreciated. Maybe she’d come back tomorrow and see her and give her the biggest tip she could. She deserved it after treating her so well. Just as she was finishing her milkshake, Mickie returned to her booth. Charlotte beamed. 

     “How was the food, munchkin?” Mickie teased, sliding into the booth. Charlotte hadn’t noticed the man behind her until he slid in beside her. 

     He was at least a decade older than Charlotte, but probably the around the same age as Mickie. He looked kind, but there was a certain air about him. His arms looked like they could burst the seams of his nice black suit coat with a simple flex, and it was a miracle the buttons on his black down shirt were still intact. The fedora atop his head seemed out of place, as did his dreads. 

     “Charlotte, this is Father Wyatt. He’s a local preacher. I called him while your food was cooking. I figured you could talk to him about what’s goin’ on if you won’t tell me.” 

     Charlotte’s looked at the man, Father Wyatt, trying to decide if she could trust him. He smiled at her, warm and inviting. He didn’t _seem_ like a threat. Preachers are people of God, so there’s no reason she shouldn’t _not_ trust him, _right_?  

     “I-I- I don’t—,” she stuttered, suddenly feeling very vulnerable and shy. Tears began to prick her eyes. Charlotte suddenly felt like she was about to get in trouble. 

     “It’s all right,” Father Wyatt said, his voice warm and gentle. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. May I ask you something?” 

     Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. 

     “Do you have anywhere to stay for the night?” 

     She shook her head. Charlotte hadn’t thought that far ahead. She just knew she needed to leave, and she was _not ever_ going back.  

     “Ms. James, could she stay with you?” 

     Mickie sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “Oh, I wish I could take in this little sweet pea, but I live in a one bedroom apartment on the bad side of town. It’s no place for me, but especially not for her.” 

     “Okay, that settles it then,” Father Wyatt started. Charlotte’s heart sank. She feared she’d have no choice but to return home. The tears pricking her eyes started trailing down her cheeks once more. “You’ll come back to the Grounds with me tonight, and figure out what to do tomorrow, after you’ve had plenty of rest.” 

     He finished with a smile. Charlotte looked at him bewildered. 

     “W-What?” She croaked. 

     “Well, clearly returning you home isn’t what you want and seemingly the opposite of what you need, Ms. James can’t provide proper shelter, so that leaves my home and church as the only, current possible option.” 

     “Father Wyatt and his church frequently take in other children and teenagers. There’s lots there. You can trust him.” Mickie chimed in. 

     Charlotte looked at them both. She didn’t have many options at the moment. Mickie had been so kind to her, and she trusted her. If Mickie said she could trust Father Wyatt, then she was going to trust Father Wyatt. 

     After all, this man was a preacher. He was a man of God. You can trust people of the church. You can trust holy people.

  


    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at my main blog, [pretty-elias](http://pretty-elias.tumblr.com/), my fanfic blog [queenslayerlynch](http://queenslayerlynch.tumblr.com/), and on twitter [pretty elias](https://mobile.twitter.com/prettyelias_/)


	2. I. ØH LØRD, SALVATIØN!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLR8StFUi_nttHKx37O8FtGgi9KoLF68N4)

[**SALVATION**](https://youtu.be/T9BBIlmbdlA) 

* * *

 

Often the most holiest or those who claim to be are the most wicked. People lost seek out these holy figures for guidance. They’re susceptible, vulnerable, and willing. The holy ones take advantage of lost and mold them, shape them into something that they’ve convinced the lost they’re meant to be. The lost are none the wiser. After all, they sought out for these holy beings and surely they wouldn’t lead the lost astray, right? Of course not!

* * *

  
  
    “O Father Wyatt,” Charlotte knocked lightly. A short and rounded, muscular man peeked beyond his glasses, then smiled widely.  
  
    “Hello Charlotte! How nice of you to stop by! What can I help you with my girl?” He gestured for the young woman to come inside. Another woman followed her inside, looking about as young as Charlotte.  
  
    “Oh! You’ve brought someone new! What’s your name, young woman?” Father Wyatt held out his hand. The woman shook it reluctantly.  
  
    “This is Becky! I found her broke down on the highway on my way back from town.” Charlotte said.  
  
    “Becky. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Will you be staying long?”

    Becky frowned and shook her head. “No. I just need ta find a phone. You guys got one here?”

    “Oh! What a lovely accent! Might I ask where you’re from Becky?” 

    “Uh, Ireland, sir. Dublin.”

    “Wonderful!” 

     Father Wyatt signaled for the girls to follow. Charlotte did so without hesitation, having been in Father Wyatt’s house many times. Becky stumbled over her own feet. The house looked bigger outside. Walls separated every room, making the inside seem very compact. It was by no means a modern house either. Everything looked like it was made in the late 19th or early 20th century. Old was the best way Becky could describe it.  
  
    "We don’t have many phones, but there’s a few scattered among the Holy Land.” Father Wyatt spoke. He pointed to the mounted phone on the kitchen wall.  
  
    “Holy Land?"  
  
    Father Wyatt beamed. "The place you’re currently experiencing. The church, the priests, my home, and a few civilian homes have phones. We’re very limited on technology as I and the priests find that it clouds and corrupts your mind and soul.”  
  
    “Right….” Becky replied. “Well thanks for allowin’ me ta make a phone call."  
  
    "But of course, young Becky. Charlotte and I will step out to give you privacy. We’ll be in the living room when you’re finished.”  
  
    Charlotte smiled and gave a small wave. Father Wyatt placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her out of the room. Becky looked at the phone in utter disbelief.  
  
    “Christ Almighty. I wish I never got in that woman’s truck now. A buncha fuckin’ nut cases!”

    Becky continued to mumble to herself as she dialed home, desperately hoping someone would be there to pick up. She’d only been at the “Holy Land” for ten minutes, but it was enough to creep her out and give her the jitters. The sooner she left, the better.

* * *

 

    _“Oh Lord won’t you save me, save me from my soul? Oh Lord won’t you forgive me, for I have lost control. Oh Lord won’t you tell me, am I the righteous or the damned? Oh Lord won’t you please hear me? Do I obey or do I command?”_

    Becky stood in the doorway, watching and listening curiously to Father Wyatt and Charlotte singing what she assumed was some kind of prayer. They faced each other, eyes closed and hands pressed together. Their voices harmonized together beautifully and eerily. She couldn’t tell if the chill she got was good or bad.

     _“Exorcise the demon. Exorcise the demon. Exorcise the demon. Save my soul.”_

    The chills were definitely a mix of good and bad.

     Charlotte opened her eyes first. They instantly fell on Becky. She grinned brightly at her, which Becky returned with shy smile.

    “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

     “Nonsense! It’s no interruption at all!” Father Wyatt replied with a smile of his own. “Were you able to reach someone?”

     Becky sighed. “Not at home, but I did call a tow service and they said they’d tow me if I could catch a ride back inta town so I can show ‘em where my car is. Could I ask one of you or someone else, to do me this one last favour?” 

     “But of course! I’ll have Charlotte drive you back, but on one condition: _you_ join us for the second verse and chorus of our prayer.”  

     “Oh, no, I-I couldn’t.” Becky chuckled nervously. She wasn’t exactly religious, and there was no chance in hell she was gonna make a fool of herself today. “I don’t know the words.I wouldn’t want ta mess up yer pretty song.” 

     “I insist. All you have to do is sit beside Charlotte and join hands with us.” 

     “O-kay.” 

     Becky cautiously stepped into the living room. The floor creaked with every other step she took. She sat a comfortable distance from them both, but still close enough to reach. The couch was firm and smelled as old as the rest of the house. Charlotte grabbed for her hand first, Her touch was gentle, her hand pleasantly warm and incredibly soft— a stark contrast from Father Wyatt’s cold, calloused hand. They both shut their eyes, but Becky kept hers open. The chills from earlier cam back as they start singing again. 

_“Oh Lord can’t you save me, from my twisted little mind? Oh Lord won't you please show me how to turn the water to wine? Oh Lord won't you show me? Am I the sinner or the saint? Oh Lord won’t you please tell me? Was all my suffering in vain?”_

_“Cast the Devil away. Cast the Devil away. Cast the Devil away.”_

_“Oh God have mercy on me! (Thou shall not sin.) Oh God have mercy on me! Hold me down under holy water. I fear I been layin’ with the Devil. I been layin’ with the Devil. Layin’ with the Devil. I been layin’ with the Devil.”_

* * *

 

[ **_Oh Lord please forgive me for what I’m about to do…._ ** ](https://youtu.be/XqdYHnulCms)

****

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at my main blog, [pretty-elias](http://pretty-elias.tumblr.com/), my fanfic blog [queenslayerlynch](http://queenslayerlynch.tumblr.com/), and on twitter [pretty elias](https://mobile.twitter.com/prettyelias_/)


End file.
